Don't Leave
by ThePokemonMage
Summary: (Spoilers for Episode 382 and 383) What if Black Mage didn't survive that fatal blow from the Lich? How would the other Light Warriors react? Especially Fighter? (Could consider it as FighterxBlack Mage, but otherwise, it's pretty much friendship.)


**A/N: Warning, if you are not at **_**Episode 382: So Many Mortal Coils **_**or beyond that, don't read this. Spoilers up the front, man.**

**Anyway, this is a "What If" scenario. What if Black Mage didn't survive that horrible throw? What would have happened? Well, this is my take. If you squint very hard and tilt your head, you may see Fighter x Black Mage (aka boyxboy), but you can still consider it as friendship. I don't really care for which path you take, as long as you find some enjoyment in this fanfic.**

_**8-Bit Theater **_**belongs to Brian Clevinger and not me.**

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How the Lich was dragged to Hell, the three Light Warriors will never know. At least the fight was over. But...

Fighter ran over to the collapsed mage, shaking the limp body; calling his name. But, there was no reply. Sweat dripped from his face as he continued the action, hoping for something, _anything _to happen that didn't involve his friend being...

Tears began to form, sliding down his cheeks. Fighter began to cry out, calling Black Mage's name. But the latter didn't move, not even an inch. Thief and Red Mage tried to pull the warrior away, but he refused. He shoved them aside, and continued his attempts of waking Black Mage up. Try as he might, nothing happened; his attempts were futile. His body began to shake uncontrollably, tears running. Something wasn't right. He knows that Black Mage wouldn't go down so easily. Something had to be wrong! This couldn't be happening! I-It... It was a dream. Y-Yeah! It had to be a dream!

Fighter pinched himself, twice, but... Nothing. It wasn't a dream. It... It was... Reality.

Not a dream.  
Not an illusion.  
True.  
Reality.

In front of his eyes... A dead friend.

A limp body. No movements. No blinking. No speaking. No yelling. Nothing.

Fighter blinked, shaking his head. He refused to believe it. He screamed his friend's name, begging for him to wake up. Still, nothing. He was on the verge of breaking down into sobs. His entire body was quaking in fear. He tightly gripped the robes of the mage, tears falling on the cloth. He couldn't speak. He couldn't focus on anything else. His attention was fixated on his friend, nothing else. Fighter's futile cries turned to whimpers; quite plea's. His grip slowly loosened and he stood up, backing away. His body shook, tears falling down faster, sobs becoming louder.

Almost in a mantra, he repeated "No, no, no..."

Then...  
He broke down.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no! NO!" His words were shaky, troubled, filled with despair.

Thief and Red Mage were unsure of what to do. Here, the usual idiotic, jovial, and strong Fighter was... Broken. Was a sobbing mess. Wasn't himself. He was filled with sorrow, hopelessness. It wasn't right. The Light Warrior went back to rapidly shaking the mage, calling out to him. Fighter eventually stopped his attempts. He tightly hugged the limp body, whimpering.

"N-No... C-Come on, Black Mage. Wake up... Y-You... G-Gotta..." He mewled. "P-Please... W-Wake up..."

After few seconds of the soft, sad, pleading repetition; Thief spoke up.

"Fighter? I-I think that... He's not gonna... Wake up." He said as softly as possible.

"Sh-Shut it!" Fighter snapped, causing the kleptomaniac to flinch.

Thief motioned for Red Mage to try to calm down the sword-wielder.

"Uh, Fighter. I-I know you don't want to admit it, but..." He started, only to be interrupted.

"SHUT UP!"

Another flinch in response.  
Soft whimpers followed.

Red Mage and Thief could only watch as their fellow Light Warrior sobbed over their dead teammate.

"P-Please... G-Get up!" Fighter cried, squeezing the body into a tight hug, as if it were to slip out of his hands. "B-Black Mage! Get up!"

He clenched his teeth, tugging blue robes, lightly poking the body. But no. Nothing. Not a trace of life. No beating pulse, no soft breaths. No yelling for stupidity, laughter for destroying something. Just a limp body. A corpse.

A dead friend. Nothing more.

Fighter tightly hugged the corpse, body shaking as more tears escaped. He was beginning to give up, beginning to see the truth. The last thing he said; the last thing he remembered saying before breaking down, before falling into the somber darkness...

_"D-Don't leave me."_

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**A/N: Okay. You know. I'm starting to realize that I have a cruel obsession for writing dark fics for cute pairings/ friendships.**


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